


All for Oliver

by teddybagwell



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Smut, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddybagwell/pseuds/teddybagwell
Summary: Oliver walks in on Elio..
Relationships: Oliver & Elio Perlman, Oliver/Elio Perlman
Comments: 15
Kudos: 61





	All for Oliver

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first bit of writing for this fandom and I was so excited to write this so hopefully there's still people out there to enjoy it! <3

He didn't knock. 

Maybe he did and I was just too preoccupied to hear it. My hand fled from beneath my bathing suit. I pretended to be interested in something on my arm. My heart was pounding against my chest.

It's not the first time this has happened. 

'Elio, your father wants to speak with you,' Oliver said, eyes flicking across my body. Some part of me wanted him to put the pieces together. Take one look at me and know what I was doing. _Please._ 'What're you doing?'

'Nothing,' I mumbled, shaking my head. His bathing suit hugged his hips, the star of David hanging proudly around his neck, as if to say _'look at me, look at me and only me'_. I had to refrain from allowing myself to stare at him for too long. 

Silence crept between the two of us, moving stealthily through the room only to be shunned by the mere creak of a floorboard as Oliver took a step closer. He leaned against the frame of the bed.

'Really?' he asked. 'Why don't I believe that?' 

In a failed attempt to appear nonchalant, I produced a sound that could only be perceived as a whimper. I quickly cleared my throat. 'I was thinking about going swimming.'

'Am I interrupting?' he asked after a few more seconds.

'W-what?'

I readjusted on the bed, a sudden wave of panic washing over me. Could Oliver see my cock pressed against my bathing suit? Was he aware of how much it ached for him, how much _I_ ached for him? 

'Because if so,' he started, leaning down onto his forearms, 'by all means, continue.' 

His stare was challenging, as though he was daring me to prove him wrong. The summer air turned impossibly humid, or maybe it was his eyes on me, it was a sensation I hadn't felt since he'd arrived; I'd never had his undivided attention for so long before.

I ran the very tips of my fingers across my tummy, adoring the fact his eyes moved down and stayed there. There was a look in them I wanted so much to recognise. 

With a surge of confidence, I allowed myself to delve lower and trace the hem of my bathing suit while not daring to look up. I didn't want to see a pitying look in Oliver's eyes, or worse, confusion or disgust.

I wanted him on fire, just as I was. I yearned to have the privilege of seeing him aroused, so full to the brim with hot, white lust that even a gentle touch would push him over the edge. 

Countless nights I'd lay awake, wondering if he was sleeping or if there was the possibility he was touching himself. Oliver spread out across his bed that was my bed, the palm that always looks so smooth wrapped delicately around his cock. The thought of the noises he might make was enough to make me come every time.

Finally, I plucked the courage to slip my hand into my suit, emitting a gasp at the sudden contact. My heart pounded; something that felt natural minutes ago became terrifying with an audience, especially when the audience was the one man I would look for in every crowd. 

I leaned back into the pillows, rolling my hips ever so slightly to meet my fist as I stroked myself. _All for Oliver._ Had he thought about this as much as I had?

I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes, not yet. I wanted to savour the idea that maybe, just maybe, this was a turning point. I needed this to be affecting Oliver because if it not it would mean the moments between us that I had convinced myself were significant would crumble and disintegrate. I couldn't bear the thought. 

'Hm.' 

That was all I needed. I had to bite back a smile.

The centre of his cheeks had transitioned into a darker shade of pink. His knuckles were a pasty white, wrapped around the frame at the end of the bed. 

'You're clueless, aren't you?' Oliver rasped, his eyes gazing upon the rise and fall of my hand as I stroked myself. 

'You know I am,' I said faintly. 

He laughed, eyes finally unlatching. 'I didn't mean it like that.' He straightened, quickly becoming unsure of himself. 

'Tell me.. please.' 

Our eyes met, I told him everything I didn't have the courage to say with words. 

'You don't have a clue the power you hold,' he said, coming around to sit at my feet. His hand, though hesitant, brushed up my leg, coming to a halt at my knee. 'Over many people, not just me.'

Those last three words hung in the air. _Not just me._ I didn't care about anyone else, only Oliver. To have it confirmed by him, not with gestures or glances, or a slight touch of my skin but with words was more than I could ever have dreamed.

'Keep talking,' I sighed, arching my back. 

'Are you going to keep touching yourself? Oliver asked boldly, his hand gripping my knee. 

'Do you want me to?' I teased, craning my neck as I looked at him innocently, I never stopped stroking my cock.

'Very much so,' he replied, positioning himself so that his back rested against the frame. Now he was facing me, the bulge in his shorts came into my line of vision. 

I hummed at the sight of him. I made him hard; I could have burst with pride. 

'Are you... going to?' I asked, leaning on my elbow, glancing down at his lap. He was too busy watching my hand still hidden away and jerking my cock. 

'It's a little early on for mutual masturbation, don't you think?' he smiled in a way that appeared playful. I wanted to argue, protest that it wasn't fair that I was giving myself to him and getting nothing in return, but I didn't. 

He must have spotted the troubled look. 'Elio. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I don't want this to become too much, too quick.' He glanced at my leg resting next to his, as though questioning whether to risk a touch. 

I slipped my foot up his thigh and letting the heel linger atop his cock, brushing only gently. A sharp gasp left his throat. I wanted to hear him make that noise again. He grabbed my ankle tightly. 'No, no, no. I talk, you stroke.' 

Lust pulsed through my body; being told what to do by Oliver was a new-found pleasure. I picked up my speed, feeling precum dripping down the side of my length before my hand swiped it up. I pulled my cock out from beneath my bathing suit. I wasn't sure why. Was I honestly willing to give him even more of myself?

'Do you know when you come down late for breakfast some mornings? I can't help but wonder if this is what you're doing. Who wants breakfast when you've got a hard cock and all the time in the world?' Oliver's voice dripped, like ice cream on a scorching day. I could never get enough. 'When you're sitting at your table,' his fingers were delicately massaging my foot, 'eating a peach oh-so innocently, and juice runs down your chin, I have a sudden desire to come in your mouth.' 

'Fuck,' I whispered, my body jolting upwards. 'I-I'm going to come. O-Oliver...'

I wanted to ask him the question. The one that, to me, seemed to be hanging in the air. It would mark the day in my brain so that when he was no longer living with us, I could look back and vividly remember the time Oliver let me come in his mouth. I yearned for it, but I said nothing. 

He watched in a transfixed state, only spurring me on, I wanted him to remember. 

'I always think about whether you.. get yourself off in my bed,' I whispered, my fingers digging into the bedsheets as I will myself to hold on just a little bit longer, my arm began to ache. 'The faces you'd make.. the noises.'

His fingers were searing my skin as he moved them above my knee and along my inner thigh. I was sure I was dreaming. 

'Your room still smells like you,' Oliver said, and that told me everything I needed to know. I didn't have to be told to know I was blushing. 'I would absolutely love it if you came for me, Elio,' he hummed. 'Come all over yourself for me, no one else. For me, Elio. Please.'

I tried to prevail, to stave off the climax for as long as I could; I never wanted this moment to end, terrified we would never be like this with each other again. 

'Oliver...' I whispered, feeling my core tightening as the pleasure seeped into every part of my body, the touch of Oliver's fingertips so subtle and yet the only thing I was focusing on as I came. 'Fuck.' 

Finally, I relaxed, allowing my body to go limp. The room fell still once again. A sense of sadness washed over me, I didn't want us to take a step back and return to the way we were. I refused to live through that again. 

'Throw me that towel, please?' I asked, looking at the mess I'd made on my chest and then at Oliver, hoping with everything I had he would say something, anything, before walking out. 

Oliver grabbed the towel sitting on the chair and stood towering over me. I held back from glancing at the hard-on that was now at eye level. The air left my lungs when Oliver swiped his middle finger through the come on my chest and popped it into his mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world. My heart swelled.

'Meet you downstairs in ten,' he said, dropping the towel down next to me. 'Unless you wanted to go swimming alone?' 

Distracted, I absentmindedly shook my head. 'Nhm.'

'Good,' he smiled devilishly, heading for the door. 'I'll go get changed.'


End file.
